


lifting off deeper blues (we're gonna pull through)

by sartiebodyshots



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: c02e045 The Stowaway, but mostly comfort tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 22:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17837027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: Caleb feels guilty about leaving Nott behind to face the dragon.





	lifting off deeper blues (we're gonna pull through)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "heart" by flor. 
> 
> After watching the Stowaway, I just had to, okay?

Caleb steps out of the ball and turns to look backwards.  He and Nott apparently made it just in time to avoid a protracted battle with that dragon, and he wants to make some joke about it to his friend. 

But when he turns around, there's no one.  

Well, that's not quite accurate.  Most of the other members of the Mighty Nein are gathered around the orb.  But not Nott. 

“We have to… we have to get back there,” Caleb says after a beat, when Nott doesn't appear.  “To help.”

“We don't know if it would be helping,” Beau says, voice more gravelly than normal.  “If we reopen the portal, it might cut them off.” 

Beau is right, and Caleb hates her for it.  Except, he actually hates himself for being so careless, for being so cowardly.  His first instinct was to cast a spell on himself and flee as soon as he saw that dragon.

They wait in tense silence for their friends, not quite looking at each other.  He wants to ask questions, to  _ know _ because knowing helps, right? but he can’t make the words come out.

When the green blur of Nott appears, Caleb realizes that his chest was curled tight, unyielding.  And now that she's here, his chest feels right again. 

Then.  Then. Then Nott sways.  His eyes trace over blood and sweat and her face twisted in pain before she sees him looking, and she checks him over, and she grins up at him.

Jester pops out a few moments later, and the look that she shares with Nott tells him everything.  Well, not quite everything. But enough for Caleb to get the gist of what happened. 

Oh shit.

* * *

“Are you okay?” Caleb asks when Twiggy has left.

“Am I okay?” Nott asks, tilting her head as if it’s a silly question.  “Yes, I’m fine. Are you okay?”

Caleb can’t breathe, just for a split second.  “Would you jump up here?”

“Would I what?” Nott asks, leaning up towards him, even though she looks as if she can barely stand.

“Would you jump up?”

“Onto you?”

“Yeah.”

Nott leaps up into his arms easily, grabbing ahold to his robes before settling into his arms.  They travelled like this more commonly before meeting up with the Mighty Nein, back when Nott would pretend to be his daughter, face buried in his neck for safety; there hasn’t been the need for that kind of safety for some time.  

Once she’s settled in his arms, she kisses his nose, a big grin on her face as she digs into her pack.  Nott pulls out one of the books from the study, waving it in front of him.

“We still have books to go through!” Nott’s excitement is, for once, not catchy and more than his when it comes to books.

“I'll look at those tomorrow. Let's go get some sleep,” Caleb says, an ache settling in his chest.

Caleb sets off down the ship without so much as a glance at anyone else.  His normal excitement at the prospect of new materials to read- particularly some from the library of a powerful wizard- is replaced with a faint nausea.

Nott puts the book back in her pouch, wrapping her arms around his neck.  She somehow seems to grow heavier as she does so, releasing all of the tension she had been holding.  

Caleb rubs her back with one hand and nearly smiles as her hair tickles his cheek.  She’s still alive; she’s solid; she’s still solidly alive in his arms and against his chest and brushing against his cheek.

They eventually make it back to their room, Caleb pushing open the door as quietly as possible; she’s stilled, so he doesn’t want to disturb her if she’s fallen asleep.  

The door clicks shut behind them, and Nott stirs, looking up at him.  A frown crosses over her face as she rests a claw gently against his temple.

“Oh, Caleb, I’m so sorry.  Are you sure you’re okay?” Nott breaks the silence between them.

The concern lacing her voice is such the opposite of what he was expecting that it takes his thoughts a moment to coalesce.  She takes that time to scramble back into her pouch and pull out a healing potion.

“Are you going to drink that?” Caleb says when Nott just continues to hold the healing potion.

“I got it out for you, silly,” Nott says.  “I’m sorry you got caught in that arrow blast, too.  I was trying to hit it higher up, so you wouldn’t get caught in the blast, but I guess was my aim was off.  I’m really sorry, Caleb.”

Caleb has to blink a few more times and clear the lump that’s formed in his throat.  His dear, sweet, wonderful friend.

“ _ You _ have nothing to be sorry for, my friend.  You were brave,” Caleb says. 

He crosses to her bed and sets her down, somewhat reluctantly.  There's a space where he was holding her; it's bigger than she is, which shouldn't be possible, but then again, Nott shouldn't be possible.  

Caleb kneels down before her.  He pulls out a cloth, dampens it from his waterskin, and washes away the dirt and blood.  

Nott doesn't usually let him care of her like this, but she seems to sense his need.  She lets him bandage her wounds, face illegible when she's done. 

Nott's wise yellow eyes watch him as he crosses the tiny space of their shared room to sit on his own bed.  They're both just staring at each other; it reminds him of when they started up their friendship. They would stare at each other over the fire, both certain the other would get up to leave.  The expected abandonment never came, and they stared less.

There are words that Caleb needs to say, but he needs to say them just right.  There are not many people in his life that are important, and there is no one in his life more important than Nott.  

“I thought you were right behind me,” Caleb starts, shakes his head, stops.  That's an excuse. Not an apology. Not right. “I am so sorry that I left you.  It wasn't right of me to leave until I knew you were safe.”

Nott tilts her head, looks him up down.  He is normally quite good at reading people, but she is inscrutable to him now.  Perhaps he is distracted by the trembling in her limbs, how her body seems so small, especially compared with even a young dragon.

There’s a buzzing in his own fingertips, of a different sorts.  His very best friend, and he left her, and she could have died on some far off plane while he was tucked safe on their boat, and she is so brave, and he is such a coward, and-

A rustle of fabric cuts off his rapidly spiraling thoughts.  Nott slides off her bed and crawls up next to him. She lifts his arm, tucks herself underneath it, and puts his arm back around her.

He feels bad, for having made her exert so much effort due to his own bumbled apology.

“It’s okay, Caleb.  I’m okay. Very sturdy, I am,” Nott says.  She pauses for a moment. “But if it’s alright with you, I’d like to sleep in your bed, tonight.  Like when we were on the road.”

“Ja, of course,” Caleb says quickly.

They snuggle together, curled up in Caleb’s bed.  For a long while, they did not have adequate clothing for the elements, and the best way to avoid freezing when they couldn’t con their way into an inn was to snuggle like this.  

Now they have blankets and warm clothes, even a pillow!  But perhaps they are missing something. Something else.

The space between Caleb’s arms is full again, which makes his brain settle in some ways and tickle in others.  Something pricks at his eyes, and he realizes that tears are welling up in his eyes. 

The woman in his arms is shaking, so maybe he's not alone in this.  Caleb doesn’t do anything more when he hears a sniffle. It would make her uncomfortable, he knows, and he doesn’t want to disturb her.  

Caleb doesn’t know who falls asleep first.  Caleb isn’t sure how he falls asleep. 

He doesn’t do it well, though.  Not quite tossing and turning, but not quite resting well, either.  His neck is cricked, and his brain is sending him scattered dreams of small dark cloaks squished flat and bright golden eyes gone dull and of him having left it to happen.

After one such nasty dream, Caleb wakes up.  Waking up is a moment of relief followed by a moment of chest constricting panic because the space between his arms is empty again.  

The panic subsides when a familiar claw traces its way through his hair.  Nott has cradled his head in her lap, murmuring something soft in halfling that he doesn’t understand.  

Caleb doesn’t move, not wanting to disturb her.  He tries to stay awake, but despite himself, the gentle care slips him back to sleep.  

His sleep is tenderly peaceful.  No dreams, or at least nothing he remembers, and when he awakens, Nott is curled back in his arms.  She looks much better than she did the night before, blessedly. 

Caleb would like to lay here for a bit longer, but his internal clock tells him that it's afternoon already.  He has a lot of work to do if he's going to fulfill his promises to her and to himself. 

After extricating himself carefully from her, Caleb gets to his feet quietly.  He takes a moment to tuck the covers back around her, to make sure she is warm and can sleep as long as she would like.

Caleb pulls out one of the books from his pack, then another.  He picks one up, thumbs through it, reads a few sentences all at once, and then sets it down again.  None of it sticks in his perfect memory.

His mind just doesn’t want to concentrate on reading right now.

Instead, he finds himself with parchment and quill in hand.  He’s not concentrating, just watching Nott on the bed. She’s so small, which is not news to him, but sometimes it re-strikes him; perhaps because her personality is so large, and she is so large in his life.  

There’s no point to his idle thoughts, and he decides to try to structure his thoughts a bit better before he wastes the whole day.  He looks down to see that he's… doodled. 

The paper is covered with random shapes.  Caleb can't really make out what exactly it is that he's drawn- the only sketching he generally does is sketching out arcane equations.  What a waste of perfectly good parchment and ink, quite frankly. 

There's claw scrabbling against the chair and then a familiar weight on his shoulder; he looks over to see Nott perched, looking down at his doodle.  

“Are you feeling better?” Caleb asks.  

Nott is silent for a long moment, ears twitching a bit.  The silence makes heat rise upon Caleb's cheeks; she's been recovering and he's been wasting time and resources.  

“Did you draw that?” Nott asks.  

“If you can call that drawing…” Caleb says.

“If you squint real hard and tilt your head, it could almost be us.  The Mighty Nein, I mean,” Nott says, resting a claw absently on his head.  “I like it.”

Caleb’s lip quirk upwards, matching her smile, and he tilts his head.  First one way, then another. He squints his eyes, and then unsquints them, and then half squints them, and he tries it all again with his head tilted differently.  

“I am afraid I don’t see it, my friend.  Perhaps your artistic palette is simply more refined than mine,” Caleb says after a minute of fruitless looking.

A gentle tug in his hair, and he’s facing Nott’s toothy grin- his favorite grin.  She laughs, ruffles his hair; she’s teasing him, and that makes his heart soar because it means they’re okay.  Perhaps he doesn’t deserve her quick forgiveness, but he’ll accept it when offered.

“You’re a shit artist, but a brilliant wizard,” Nott says.  

“Good thing I only want to be a wizard, then,” Caleb points out.  

Nott ruffles his hair again before jumping to the ground.  “Let’s go figure out what we’re doing today. I’m hungry enough to eat Frumpkin.”

Caleb chuckles, gets to his feet.  “Please do not eat Frumpkin again. I am running low on incense.”

“He’s not very filling anyway,” Nott says.

They continue their way to the main part of the ship in companionable silence.  Caleb’s inner balance is restored to as close to center as it gets, and he feels a sliver of peace on this warm afternoon. 

 


End file.
